The Way She Played
by Anxious Owl
Summary: Maria/Phil. Maria is finding it the hardest to let Phil's memory go. The sad truth is that no one will ever know.


A sudden bout of inspiration produced this. Intended as a one-shot. As always, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

The Way She Played

They looked a mess. This occurred rarely.

Around ninety per cent of their opponents were predictable and their poorly constructed schemes easy to topple. The scene before her indicated that this particular encounter fell into the minority ten per cent. She surveyed the individual members as she made her way around.

Agent Barton had an oozing cut an inch in length adorning the sweaty skin above his right eyebrow, but apart from the odd bruise here and there, he would be ready for duty in the morning. He was also holding Agent Romanoff's face in his hands to steady it as he peered into her dark, tired eyes as he checked for concussion. It went without saying that she would probably be the first to fall asleep, but the last to admit she needed it.

The Captain had a large graze on his shin and looked fatigued, head drooping every so often. Dr. Banner himself seemed weary, more so than usual which was surprising for his alter ego, but it was nothing a solid eight hours of shut-eye and some Advil couldn't fix.

And Thor, well, apart from uneasiness from the fight, he was all right. Being a demigod had its advantages.

"All right, Barton, take Agent Romanoff down to the med bay. Get yourself checked out while you're there," he nodded and they got up to leave, Natasha's body language steadfastly refusing assistance.

Maria moved on to Steve, "You should go with them. Get yourself patched up." She stated, casting an eye over the preliminary report.

Steve obeyed tiredly. Bruce followed him, as did Thor. They would all end up in the same place anyway.

By Tony's bedside.

* * *

The truck had been going at full speed, trying to escape. The boy wouldn't have stood a chance. There wasn't enough time to get him out of the way without causing his body damage, so Tony had done the first thing that had come to mind: shield him. The truck had collided, all of its momentum behind it, into the glinting red form in the road. Tony absorbed some of the blow, as Steve leapt behind him and grabbed the boy in the time frame the collision had granted. Less than a second after, the Iron man went flying, and not in the comical sense.

He scraped backwards across the tarmac, coming to a jarring stop in the front wall of a florist. Part of the abdominal plate had bent inwards, causing an internal contusion which immediately began to bleed. As Bruce dealt with the truck and its passengers, Thor sped to Tony's aid while the assassins called for back-up.

She entered the room of the martyr two hours later, and wasn't surprised to find the remainder of the team dotted around the room. Tony was awake; that fact in itself had improved their health greatly. She noted amused smirks on their faces as Tony attempted to charm the nurse changing his fluids into discharging him – with no avail, of course. Maria had made sure of that.

"One more argument and she won't hesitate to sedate you."

He grinned. "_She _won't hesitate to – or _you _won't hesitate to order her?"

"Whichever comes first," she replied smoothly, "But the second option is tempting."

"C'mon. Look at me! I'm perfectly fine."

"You might look pretty fine, but that doesn't mean you are."

He gaped dramatically, "Agent _Hill! _Need I remind you that I'm in a relationship, and while I'm flattered, I'm sure my girlfriend wouldn't be."

Her expression soured into her usual steely gaze, but inside she was aching. A bitter part of her couldn't fathom _why _a man like Tony Stark could dance out of Death's grasp, not once but numerous times, whilst Phil had been taken so quickly and so mercilessly...

However, just as she was about to throw a poisonous remark about his elephantine vanity into his smug face, said girlfriend appeared in the doorway, flushed and tense. His face instantly softened. "Pepper..."

She hurried over, quickly settling down at the side of the bed and entwining her hands in his. "I was in Düsseldorf, dealing with Haussmann Corp when I heard," she gasped, "Oh God, are you alright?"

"It's okay, everything's okay, I'm fine." He gently rubbed her hand.

Maria didn't miss the way his entire demeanour clamed and gravitated towards Miss. Potts, something which showed them all just how important she was to him. Secretly the team was in awe of their relationship. Tony didn't show his softer side often, but when he did, you could bet his girlfriend was nearby.

Pepper calmed down, but her anxiety was instantly replaced with annoyance. "You are just _impossible! _You just had surgery! How can you say you're fine?"

"That's exactly what I've been trying to get through to him. He wants to leave already," Maria interjected.

"I can patch myself up, thanks," he shot at her, "You might want to get that sunny disposition of yours checked out though."

"Tony...," Pepper warned, her voice light with exhaustion.

Maria was once again seeing red due to the moron in front of her, and once again she was interrupted in a much needed vent. The communicator piece hooked onto her right ear bleeped.

"Agent Hill, get a status report on the cleanup operation. I also need you to butter up the council on getting the roads repaired. If all else fails I'm sure you can persuade them in some way."

"Yes, Sir," She replied to the director.

Tony smirked, "Sounds like someone else agrees."

"One foot out of that door and your precious suit is scrap metal with one call."

* * *

She tapped her hand against the steering wheel of the four-by-four impatiently. The council had been more stubborn than she had expected, requiring fifteen minutes of her particular brand of 'persuasion' (she grimaced internally at how close to the truth Stark had been) and around two hours getting the repair crew briefed and beginning the laborious task of rebuilding the roads. Usually a lower ranked agent would've been doing this job, but now anything even remotely involving the Avengers was scrutinised with a fine toothed comb by only those the most trusted and qualified, i.e. Director Fury, herself, and Ph-

Coulson. "God...," she kneaded her eyes with one hand.

The traffic grew restless and a flurry of car horns erupted behind her. She exhaled quickly and accelerated on home.

* * *

An hour later Maria had showered, eaten and changed into her nightwear. She shivered involuntarily and shrugged a grey cardigan on to her sweater vest. She promptly collapsed into the corner of her squashy burgundy sofa, rubbing a hand over her face. She felt utterly spent, but her mind refused to stop buzzing. She wasn't quite sure why. Neither reading nor television or even cleaning her guns (which worked for everything else) was able to soothe her.

It was due to a mixture of things, she finally concluded. The difficult enemy they encountered today, Tony's stubbornness (which she should really be immune to by now), the cleanup op and the traffic – and Phil. There was no way she could forget Phil.

It had been almost seven months. She had found it incredibly difficult to meet anyone's eyes for the first few weeks, but slowly the pain had subsided. The pain of losing a good colleague, agent, friend... and so much more. That was what she had been trying to avoid, trying to bury in the deepest recesses of her mind, but it seemed like the smallest things dredged fresh memories up to the surface, today being only one example.

Phil was (_had been_) so different, nothing like your average S.H.I.E.L.D operative. He was calm and charismatic and quietly confident... She groaned, mentally admonishing herself for her sentimentality. Part of the job was letting things go.

_But what if you can't let go? ...What if you don't want to?_

She abruptly got to her feet and rounded the sofa, running her hands through her hair and surreptitiously wiping her eyes in the process. She headed towards the closet. Pulling it open and gently pressing the light switch, she allowed her eyes to roam around its interior.

Her old winter boots were on the floor and several cardboard boxes lined the back wall, filled with possessions she had yet to unpack after moving to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters from Portland. Her move nine months ago had come with a much faster paced work environment, now that she was working much more closely with Nick.

Finally, her eyes came to rest on one of her most prized possessions lying along the waist high shelf in its case.

She cradled it in her arms as she exited the closet and closing it with one hand behind her. She placed it on the carpet in front of her sofa and removed the contents. She ran her fingertips across the shining russet wood. She picked up the matching bow and began to tune.

A rare delicate small graced her lips.

Phil had always loved the way she played.

* * *

Oh the feels. I researched and found out that a cellist from Portland was mentioned in the Avengers as Coulson's girlfriend. I manipulated this somewhat.

Please, _please_, _**please**_ review!


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